


Last Ones Standing

by Nixxi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixxi/pseuds/Nixxi
Summary: “How are you doing?” he asks, nudging a grey sweater aside to sit on the edge of the bed.“I’m okay.” She takes the sweater and folds it, but she doesn’t put it away. She holds it against herself instead, protectively, her face pale and drawn. “It’s been a weird few days.”“Yeah,” Gladio says softly. “Tell me about it.”After the fall of Insomnia, Gladio and Iris have a conversation about their dad.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Iris Amicitia
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Last Ones Standing

Five minutes after Iris excuses herself from their hotel room, Gladio follows her.

None of the others ask him where he’s going. He figures they already know. Noct doesn’t even glance up from his phone as Gladio noisily shoves his feet into his boots. Prompto's lying face down on one bed, his face buried in a pillow. Ignis gives him a knowing, sympathetic look from across the room, but then he takes his Ebony out onto the balcony to watch the sun set over Lestallum.

Alone, Gladio slips into the hallway and knocks softly on Iris’s door, tapping his foot anxiously until it cracks open and her face peers out at him.

“Gladdy,” she says, sounding relieved, but tired.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?”

She opens the door fully, and he steps inside, glancing around. The room is a disaster. Her suitcase is open on the bed, with her clothes strewn all over it, the floor, and the chair in the corner. A bag of chips and an open soda can occupy the nightstand. There are a few jars of makeup on the vanity, with what might be a smudge of eyeshadow on the glass surface. It looks almost like her bedroom at home, and after a few days of worrying he lost her, that’s a comfort to Gladio.

“How are you doing?” he asks, nudging a grey sweater aside to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m okay.” She takes the sweater and folds it, but she doesn’t put it away. She holds it against herself instead, protectively, her face pale and drawn. “It’s been a weird few days.”

“Yeah,” Gladio says softly. “Tell me about it.” 

“I’m really glad you guys are okay. I kept trying to call you, but I couldn’t get through.”

Gladio manages a teasing smile. “I just figured you cared about Noct more than me.”

She doesn’t smile back. “That’s not funny, Gladdy. I was trying to get through to all of you. Noct was just the first one who picked up.”

“You’re right. Sorry.” Gladio sobers, running a hand through his hair. It’s greasy, and he catches a whiff of his own pits when he lifts his arm, but a shower can wait. This conversation is more important. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

She bites her lip, avoiding his eyes. “I thought we weren’t going to be, for a while.”

Gladio nods, shame and regret squeezing his heart. He should’ve been there to protect her when Insomnia was falling, not safe in Galdin Quay, too far away to do anything to stop the violence. He reaches out and takes her hand.

“What happened?” he asks.

“It’s all kind of a blur.” She shakes her head. “I guess we’d just finished eating dinner. Jared was washing the dishes, and I was helping Talcott with his homework at the kitchen table. Then Monica and Dustin showed up and told us we had to leave. They gave us five minutes to pack our bags.”

“And you didn’t ask them a million questions? I’m impressed.”

“Well, I did,” she says, looking a little sheepish. “But they wouldn’t tell me why we had to go. They said they’d explain everything after.”

Gladio nods. “Better to keep you calm during evacuation. So they took you out of the city?”

Iris nods. “We could see fire in the distance when we left the house. It made the sky orange. I stopped to look at it, but Monica told us to get in the car, so I did. I was too scared to ask about Daddy because…”

She trails off, her lower lip quivering. It breaks Gladio’s heart. He tugs on her hand, pulling her into his arms, and they hold each other, her body trembling as she cries. Even though she’s got that fiery Amicitia spirit, she’s still just a kid. What if Monica and Dustin hadn’t gotten to her in time? What if she’d died in Insomnia, too, like their dad? Gladio never would’ve forgiven himself, probably never would’ve gotten over it.

He buries his face in her shoulder, his eyes stinging. It’s the first time he’s let himself think about any of this since he got the news about the attack—not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay focused if he did. He had Noct to worry about, and the others. He had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. There was no room to grieve his own losses. And after all that, Gladio still doesn't know if he can cry for his dad.

“I never got to say goodbye,” Iris sobs. “I wish I’d given him a bigger hug the last time I saw him.”

“I know,” Gladio murmurs, rubbing her back. 

There are a lot of things he wishes he’d said, too, and things he wishes he could ask. His dad trained him to fight and protect, to read other people’s intentions and be diplomatic, but he’s never had to make life-or-death decisions before, and he’s never faced real danger—until now. One wrong move could get Noct killed. And the fact is, he doesn’t have a clue what the hell he's doing. He’s put on a brave face for the others, but without his dad to turn to for guidance, he’s not sure he can be strong.

“Do you think he knew?” She draws back, looking at him with bright, watery eyes. “He acted so normal the last time we saw him…”

Gladio remembers that night—the night before he left on his road trip with Noct. They went out for dinner at a nice restaurant around the corner from the Citadel, just the three of them. His dad ordered a steak and whiskey, and they talked about mundane shit, like Iris’s grades and the book Gladio was reading. Nothing about his dad’s demeanour seemed out of the ordinary, but maybe that was the point. Maybe he knew all along, and he was just trying to protect them. 

Them, and the future. Because if Gladio had known what would happen, he’s not sure he could’ve left Insomnia—not sure he could’ve left his dad and little sister behind to face the danger alone, not even for Noct. He knows this because he’s lain awake every night since Insomnia fell, ashamed of himself for being so useless, and wishing he could turn back time and change things.

His dad did the right thing. He made sure Gladio would do his duty…and Gladio suspects he was the one who asked Dustin and Monica to whisk Iris to safety.

“He didn’t want to worry you,” Gladio says. He cups her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “He knew it’d be too hard to say goodbye.”

“Yeah,” she says miserably, “but this is hard, too.”

“It’ll get better.” He hugs her again, resting his head against hers. She’s sniffling, but at least she ain’t outright sobbing anymore. Gruffly, he adds: “Dad loved you. Don’t forget that.”

He feels her nod against his head. “And he was super proud of you, Gladdy.”

Gladio swallows the lump in his throat. All his life, he’s worked hard to win his dad’s approval, to be half the man he was and be worthy of his title. Gladio will never know if he succeeded, but his dad entrusted Noct’s protection to him, and that’s gotta count for something, right? And he’ll keep doing what he’s gotta do to make his dad proud. 

“You wanna keep Dad alive, then remember him,” Gladio says. “Hold on to all the little things that made him special.”

“Like his lame jokes that haven’t been cool since the ‘20s?” Iris says.

“Yeah,” Gladio says. “And Sunday mornings in his housecoat and slippers reading the newspaper. Or how he could never remember any of my girlfriends’ names.”

“You think that’s bad? How many times did he call me by your name and mom’s before he got it right?”

They both laugh, but the laughter quickly fades, and then they look at each other uncertainly. It ain’t the first parent they’ve lost, but this seems worse than their mom’s death, as if losing their dad reopened a wound that never really healed. Before, they still had their dad. Today, they’re orphans.

“What do we do now?” Iris asks.

Their dad is gone, but they’ve still got each other. They’ve still got this world and their friends to fight for, and they still have the future. Gladio’s still got his duty, and even if he doesn’t always have faith in himself, he has his dad’s training to fall back on. 

They’re alone now and it hurts, but it ain’t the end of the road for them.

“We keep going. Keep livin’,” Gladio says. He squeezes her hand, willing her to believe there are sunnier days ahead. “That’s what Dad would want.”

And when she smiles—shaky, her eyes still watery, but her face resolute—he knows it’ll be all right.


End file.
